


Still With You

by dai_naning



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Blood Donation, College Student Miya Atsumu, Dreams, Fluff, M/M, Murder, Slow Burn, That's right we're doing video games now, Vampire Sakusa Kiyoomi, Video Game Developers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28427721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dai_naning/pseuds/dai_naning
Summary: College student Miya Atsumu luck became shitty in just one day.  First, he woke up to a nightmare which has been occurring for a days. Next, he found out he lost a ¥90,000 digital drawing monitor for no clear reason. Now he’s going to die on the dirty asphalt losing all his money. What did he do in his past life to have this kind of shitty luck?Vampire Sakusa Kiyoomi on the other hand needs blood. An encounter in the alley leads to a partnership with Miya Atsumu. Unknown to him, Miya Atsumu is more than just a human with 'a tasty blood' in more ways than one.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 15
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

The pause before the thunderclap always starts the dream. When the lightning appears the forest shook and the wind picks up its speed. The rain is pouring heavily all around him, the solid forest floor turned to muddy. His kimono is dark instead of the vibrant yellow it once was. Most likely as a result of the mud though there are some spots that are red. 

Miya Atsumu does not know why he knows these. He does not even know why he’s on the floor looking up to the sky. He would think more of it if his mind wasn’t so foggy. His body feels weightless yet at the same time heavier than stones. The paradox is enough to keep is mind off the fact that it all feels too real.

Someone is kneeling next to him, breathing heavily with their chest heaving up and down. Atsumu watches it go up and down, wondering why they are shaking. Atsumu does not know why but he feels like crying for them. Atsumu wants to hold them, to assure them that it’s okay but his arms will not move. He has no strength to do so. 

So Atsumu lays there, blinking through the rain, and wonders for the nth time who the person is.

* * *

In a shared apartment in Tokyo, Miya Atsumu startles awake from his alarm, falling from his bed. He lands with a loud curse. Outside his bedroom someone shouts a question, too far away for Atsumu to properly hear. Groaning, Atsumu stays on the floor and tries to go back to sleep despite the cold floor.

It has been days since he first had that dream. The first time it happened Atsumu had woken up in cold sweat and rushed to the bathroom to throw up. His stomach was uneasy and his legs felt like jelly. A shower did nothing to help and only reminded him of the way his chest felt so heavy in the pouring rain. Atsumu wanted to bash his head on the wall just to forget.

The dream appeared over and over again. Atsumu had freaked out. Why would he dream of that awful thing over and over again? Not to mention it’s so vivid every time it happens. The same exact scenario plays out without fail: the thunderclap, the lightning, the rain, and the mysterious person kneeling next to him. Atsumu had sketched out the scene and tried to understand what the hell was causing it. Was it a memory? Was it a hidden trauma? Whatever it is Google doesn’t know it.

Atsumu heaves a sigh. His chest feels heavy as usual whenever he has the dream. It’s strange. He feels like crying again.

Someone knocks on his door before it was opened. Atsumu does not have to look up to know it’s Suna Rintarou. His best friend is the only one in their shared apartment who bothers to knock. Osamu on the other hand is born without manners and barges in.

“Get up. Osamu has breakfast ready,” Suna says, looking down on him with his narrow eyes. Even wide-awake Suna looks as if he’s ready to slip back to sleep.

Atsumu stares at Suna in his pajamas. “You have no class today?”

“No, professors all canceled. We just have some worksheets to do.” Suna peeks around his room and raises a brow at his study table. Balled up sheets of paper litter the desk with pens and various books left open. “So that’s why you were silent last night. Your desk is a complete mess. Is it the project?”

Atsumu frowns at the thought of his study area. He usually keeps it clean and organized as much as he can but recently he’s been slacking. He kept on brainstorming without pause the past few days. Two corkboards pinned with various notes and sketches resulted from endless revising hang above his desk. The project has taken almost half of every video game design student. Atsumu is the designated narrative designer for his team. It’s a fact that has Atsumu puffing his chest in pride and making him curl into a ball in despair.

“Yeah, we’re still not really clear on the concept,” Atsumu yawns, “and there’s the fact that our assigned genre is horror. I don’t know what to write for horror. Like, do you think I should go with a funny horror or for a serious horror? How messed up can I make it? What if I made one of the judges so horrified we’re kicked off the competition?”

“Huh. I don’t really know what you’re talking about but the bathroom’s empty now,” Suna says, closing the door, “so get ready before you miss the bus.”

Atsumu continues laying down when the door closes. He gives himself ten seconds of shut-eye before making himself get dressed. He only has the team meeting and two classes so he grabs a hoodie and sweatpants. There’s no use in making himself look nice when everyone at this point of the semester is going to show up like him.

When he turns to look at his study area he frowns. Something seems to be missing. He goes over what he usually has on his desk but his brain isn’t cooperating. He looks over his desk one more time to try to figure it out. His desk is as messy as it had been last night. Maybe it’s a textbook?

Shrugging, he picks up his backpack and leaves his room.

The food is still warm when Atsumu sits down at the kitchen table. The food is left on the table covered by a mesh food cover. The apartment is quiet. Osamu probably went to the kitchens in the university to prepare for an evaluation. 

ATSUMU 

youre lucky i love onigiri

tastes good but the shape’s weird

also the onigiri fell apart again

Atsumu had just boarded the bus when Osamu replies.

OSAMU 

what about the sauce

ATSUMU 

what sauce

OSAMU 

how did u not see the sauce

I made a sauce for the yaki onigiri

ATSUMU 

Idk what youre talking about

but there was no yaki onigiri when

I woke up

Oh I think I know now

OSAMU 

???

ATSUMU 

Suna probably ate it lolol

OSAMU 

that little shit

he already ate three of them

before i left

Atsumu laughs and watches a notification appear from the group chat with Suna. Osamu spams the chat calling for him until he replied with a flat ‘what’. Atsumu spectates as Osamu and Suna bicker back and forth about the food. He exits the chat after telling Suna who really ate his beloved chuupets. Judging by the way his phone exploded from the notifications, Suna must be the one doing the spamming now.

The bus stops a few blocks away from the university campus. As he expected, the other students are in hoodies and sweatpants or leggings. When he arrives at his first class his professor takes one look at the general outfit idea and sighs. 

“I know that most of you are busy with the big project but I still need you to focus on this class,” the professor chides. “We have a quiz next week so all of you need to be prepared.”

The students all groan in protest but the professor carries on. “I know that all of you are more interested in programming languages but you still need to learn how to speak English. Especially those who are pursuing web design. This will be a good addition to your portfolio.”

More groans. The professor chides them for their behavior before taking attendance. When he finished, he assigned them an online preparatory quiz and let them leave. Atsumu quickly gets on his feet before pausing. He looks at his professor and contemplates asking for help before thinking _whatever_ and went to his professor anyway.

His professor looks up when he comes near his table, putting his folder down.

“Miya Atsumu,” Professor Takeda Ittetsu says. “What can I help you with?”

“Uh, Takeda-sensei. I don’t really read a lot of English books,” Atsumu starts, sheepish, “but I was wonderin’ if ya know any horror ones ya can recommend me? Even just one would be fine.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” Takeda assures him quickly before grabbing a memo pad. “I have to admit I’m a bit surprised, though. Is there a particular kind you’re looking for? I’ll have to apologize in advance if it’s not a lot. I’m not really a fan of horror.”

“Ah, whatever ya give me is fine, sensei,” Atsumu replies, “even just one would help. I don’t really know what I’m lookin’ for ‘cause I’m not really into horror games so anythin’ would work, really. I’ll be happy just havin’ even one starting point.”

Takeda pauses in thought before starting to write. Atsumu tries to read some of the titles but most of them are unfamiliar. 

“I hope these help, Miya-san,” Takeda hands him the paper. “If you need any more help, feel free to email me. I’ll try to answer when I can.”

Atsumu quickly scans the list and makes a mental note to look for them in the library. Hopefully, there are Japanese translations available. If that doesn’t work then there’s always the wonderful world of the internet.

“Thanks, sensei. This is a really big help,” Atsumu smiles before bowing. “I’ll take my leave now. Thanks again, Takeda-sensei!”

The next class is spent practicing animation and taking notes on some gameplay designs. Atsumu wished they focused on horror games instead but then realizes he would never recover if he screams during class. He asks for some recommendations of horror games from his professor and some references before taking his leave for the team meeting.

The university prides itself on its connections with various companies for internship opportunities for its students. Of course, these internships are earned through hard work. Though other universities boosted better prestige and better courses it doesn’t have this opportunity.

Every year, senior students are allowed to sign up for the game production competition of the university. With its partnerships and successful alumnus, the university formed relationships with some of the biggest companies. This gave them the internship opportunity Atsumu chose the university for. Winning the competition would give the chosen team a paid internship in the hosting company.

It’s every student’s dream come true. Not to mention this year's hosting company is Atsumu's dream company.

They reserved a room in the library for their meetings. The computer room for the game design department is too crowded the past few weeks. Trying to tell your teammates what tone a specific detail to have is hard when you need to yell.

“Oh, Miya-san hello!” Yachi Hitoka hastily stands up and bows. “We were just talking about the two-tone drafts!”

“Hitoka-chan, ya don’t need to call me like that,” Atsumu says, dropping his bag on a chair. “And call me Atsumu, it’s been weeks. Ya gotta chill around me, ya know?”

“Sorry, Atsumu-san!”

Yachi Hitoka. She’s phenomenal in landscape design and animation. Atsumu specifically tracked her down when he saw her portfolio last year. She has great attention to detail and is versatile with her art style. Not to mention she’s a hard worker and has great ideas albeit a bit shy in voicing out her opinions. 

“We just got here, Atsumu-san!” Hinata Shouyou says brightly, looking up from his laptop. “And I have the program for the intro ready.”

“Oh, you really are Ninja Shouyou,” Atsumu says, impressed. He completed it already? Atsumu gave him the assignment a few days ago.

Hinata Shouyou. A total wildcard in the programming department. He’s known for his speed in completing coding assignments though he usually makes some clumsy mistakes costing him some points in the process. Atsumu had seen him code two different things at the same time and thought _holy shit this kid’s nuts_ and decided to ask him to join.

“Hey, everyone!” Tendou Satori comes in, throwing up his hands in the air. “How are we today?”

“Oh, Satori-kun,” Atsumu blinks at him. “I thought you couldn’t make it?”

Satori flashes him a peace sign before sitting down. “Class got canceled so I have a free period. So, so, let’s get started!”

Tendou Satori. He’s known way back in high school when his art won a country-wide contest for a company ad. Atsumu had seen it and thought he was crazy for using a wall as his canvas but the judges loved it and to this day it’s still there. Atsumu would not have chosen him if he hadn’t seen the way he creates his original characters. It’s creative and more often than not it’s something so simple exaggerated in just the right way. When they were assigned the horror genre, Atsumu knew he had the right guy.

“So, we know that the demo game needs to be three minutes long at the least,” Atsumu starts, taking out his mood board sketches, “and horror games mostly rely on suspense and build-up so we’re going to have to do more than three minutes. Since Shoyou-kun and the other programmers are gonna need more time for that I was hopin’ we could finish all the concepts and other stuff three months so they don’t kill themselves doin’ it.”

“Three months?” Tendou’s taped fingers tap on the sketches. “These are still rough drafts though. And we still have time.”

“I know we still have some time but it’s better to finish it with time for revision. And I already had a plot but I was kind of hoping you guys would help me with some ideas.”

“Huh, you’re a hard worker huh?” Tendou pats Atsumu on the shoulder. “That’s good to hear then.”

“What do you have so far, Atsumu-senpai?” Yachi asks. 

Atsumu spends the next minutes giving the vague plot of the mood board. He still needs to study how to effectively use jump scares and suspense but it’s just a matter of where to put them. The whole team had already given him approval for the main plot so he just needs to add more layers. 

The horror genre used to rely on slasher and violent types of scare but recently there had been a surge of indie game developers creating games relying on psychological warfare. Slasher types usually take more time to develop and psychological horror can make it easier for his team. Besides, with their current skills, they can’t exactly do photorealistic type of games which are the foundation of slasher type games.

“Hm, for this we could put something that makes them remember?” Hinata suggests. “Like, a candy or something?”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ of like an icon for the players,” Atsumu says, passing around sketches. “I thought of candies, cassettes, flowers. Heck, I even thought of usin’ a shoe but I’m still not sure if that’ll work out. And I was thinkin’ of the poster for the game, too. Like Yachi-chan said last time, it would be nice if it could be the familiar thing in the game.”

“Well, since it’s a child how about a teddy bear?” Tendou asks, taking out a pencil and drawing a vague silhouette of a child holding a teddy bear. “Or something like a bunny if you want.”

“But it needs to be small though. But that does look good as the poster. Do you think the teddy bear should be a monster?”

“Hm, I can make it work. Just tell me if you want to make it really scary or cute.”

“Satori-kun, we’re makin’ a horror game.” 

“You said it was in the bedroom, right? So what about a teddy bear charm instead? Oh, what if we put teddy bears in various shapes and sizes?” Yachi says excitedly, hands flying. “For example, the next note has a drawing of a teddy bear, or the memo pad design is a teddy bear. Something like that!”

Atsumu stares at her, mouth open. “Holy shit Hitoka-chan that sounds good!”

Yachi stammers out a reply and they all hype her up much to her embarrassment. Tendou takes out his tablet to draw sketches of monsters and they vote which ones are the best. Atsumu looks at their teamwork and thinks _Man, I’m lucky these guys are in my team_.

They ended their meeting for lunch, promising to contact each other later for more details. Atsumu was packing up his bag when Yachi hesitantly approached him.

“Um, Atsumu-senpai?” Yachi fiddles with her fingers. “Can I ask you something?”

Atsumu checks his watch. “Sure, my friends can wait for a bit. What’s up?”

“For the competition,” Yachi says nervously, “do you think we’ll make it?”

Atsumu pauses and looks at his teammate. Yachi had just recently transferred to the university which might explain her lack of confidence about the competition. As far as Atsumu knows, their university is the only one that has this type of program. What’s more the game they will be making will be presented to the game company the school has partnered with for the year. When Atsumu heard who it was he almost shit himself scared too.

“Hm, I don’t really know,” Atsumu starts but backpedals when Yachi becomes more nervous, “but that’s ‘cause no one really knows! All we can do is do our best and that’s it. Whatever point from there we can no longer do anythin’ but that’s okay, right? If we don’t half-ass anythin’ then we won’t have any regrets. Isn’t that the best result?”

Yachi stares at him before slowly nodding. “You’re right, Atsumu-senpai. Sorry for troubling you about it.”

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s normal to be worried, Hitoka-chan,” Atsumu pats her on the shoulder. “Anyway, I need to get goin’ though. Text me if ya need anythin’ else!”

“Oh, Atsumu-senpai!” Yachi calls out as he leaves. “I need the drawing monitor back next week!”

Atsumu flashes her a thumbs up in reply before running for the exit. _Drawing monitor, drawing monitor… Where did he put it again? Ah, on the study table._

* * *

There’s a family restaurant a few blocks from the campus. Atsumu likes it a lot because they don’t kick him out while he has meltdowns over his assignments. Osamu prefers a cafe to fuel his caffeine addiction but after Suna had to deal with him shaking at 3 AM last week, he’s banned from coffee shops.

When he sits down at the table Atsumu puts his head on his hands and silently screams. In front of him, an unimpressed Miya Osamu continues on eating while Suna takes a picture of him (with the camera click too!) and posts it on his Twitter account. 

“What happened to him?” Osamu asks, reaching for the extra bowl of rice. “He didn’t touch his food for the past few minutes. Can I have it?”

“He just got here,” Suna says wryly. 

“Still too long.”

Suna looks at Atsumu. “What happened to you? Did you fall in front of everyone again?”

“Did they see the fanfiction you made again?” Osamu asks.

They both snicker as Atsumu stays quiet. When they hear no rebuttal, they share a look. Osamu puts his chopsticks down as Suna clicks his phone off.

Osamu kicks his brother’s legs under the table. “Hey, what are ya bein’ dramatic about?”

Atsumu looks up, lips wobbling. “‘Samu…”

“What is it? Spit it out,” Osamu says sharply.

“I lost somethin’ and I’m screwed,” Atsumu sniffs.

“Oh, please don’t cry here,” Suna groans and grabs some tissues from the dispenser. “Hide your face.”

“Do ya remember the big monitor I brought from school? The really really big one?” Atsumu asks. “I lost it.”

Suna stares at him. “Wasn’t that- Wasn’t that expensive? And how the hell did you even lose that.”

“I don’t know!” Atsumu wails. “I don’t know! It was just there last night but now it’s not there. There’s no way it could be anywhere else because I didn’t put it anywhere other than that desk.”

“Osamu have you not seen it?” Suna asks.

“No, I didn’t,” Osamu shakes his head. “And how much is it? Maybe you can pay it off or something?”

Atsumu mumbles the price so Osamu kicks him again under the table. “Stop mumblin’ and just say it.”

“¥90,000,” Atsumu mutters a bit louder.

The three of them went silent. Suna’s mouth drops to a little ‘oh’ while Osamu mentally calculates just how much that would mean.

Osamu slams his hand on the table, astonished. “What the hell kinda price is that, ‘Tsumu? And ya _lost_ it?”

“I don’t know it’s not there at my room anymore,” Atsumu says back, panic settling in. “I didn’t move it at all ‘cause it’s too heavy and there’s no way someone got it because no one visited our apartment! It was just there!”  
  


“Okay, maybe you didn’t check properly?” Suna asks. “Maybe it’s just there and you didn’t see it? Last time you said you lost your laptop and it was just wedged between the couch.”

Atsumu shakes his head. “No, there’s no way ‘cause it’s too big. I didn’t use it for some time and-” Atsumu stops. “And- I don’t. I don’t remember the last time I used it.”

Suna gives him a strange look. “You don’t remember? You said it was just at your desk.”

“I know but.” Atsumu tries to rack his brain for the past few days. “But I really don’t remember. I remember using it for coloring some of the panels but I can’t remember exactly _when_ I used it. I just. I don’t know.”

“Have you been sleeping properly? You’ve been pulling all-nighters, Atsumu.”

“Yeah but-” Atsumu groans and slumps on the table “-that’s not enough reason to make me forget that much.”

“Well, yer memory’s always been bad,” Osamu says. “Don’t sweat it too much. But the monitor… What are ya gonna do about that?”

“I don’t know,” Atsumu says miserably. “I have until next week to find it or to find payment for it. And if it’s not at home then I really did lose it. I don’t know where the hell to find ¥90,000.”

“Don’t you have a part-time job?” Suna asks. 

“No, I had to quit because of the project,” Atsumu says, “makin’ it would take all my hours and the restaurant was closin’ soon anyway. My funds are gone ‘cause I had to buy a new tablet and some textbooks even though ‘m pretty sure we’re not gonna use them anytime soon.”

“Ya can try bein’ a guinea pig for the research students?” Osamu suggests.

Suna grimaces. “Let’s make that his last resort. Are you sure you don’t remember where it is, Atsumu? It’s ¥90,000 after all.”

“I really don’t know, Sunarin. If I didn’t know any better I’d think we were robbed or somethin’.”

“That’s impossible we’re broke students,” Osamu says, “and if we were really robbed then the house should have been ransacked.”

Next to him, Suna nods but he narrows his eyes in suspicion. Something is not adding up.

“Ya don’t have any more classes, right?” Osamu asks. “Just go home and rest then. If ya can, try lookin’ for it again. Maybe ya really just moved it.”

Atsumu sighs and sits up, poking his food. After a stern look from Osamu he starts to eat, sullenly thinking of ways how to get money. He could ask for help but it’s his own problem and he’d feel like shit for asking for money. There are the research students as Osamu suggested but he also knows that it would be hellish. Their forms give Atsumu so much headache.

He should apply for a part-time job again. But how should he balance the project making and that? He could do the graveyard shift but he would be overworking himself. If he ends up in the hospital again… Well, he doesn’t want to think of that.

Atsumu sighs and stands up. “I’m gonna go home now. And then cry.”

“You’re already doin’ that every day. But don’t panic too much or yer gonna look like a dumbass,” Osamu says. “And sleep it off before ya start heatin’ yer brain up.”

“‘M not gonna heat my brain up! Stupid ‘Samu.”

“What are you, twelve?”

“We’re the same age, dumbass!”

Suna sighs. “Atsumu, go home.”

When the twins continue bickering, Suna decides to lean back on his chair and see who gets the last word. Might as well enjoy the show.

* * *

Atsumu burrows under the blanket as he takes out his phone. He already turned his room inside and out just to find the digital monitor with no such luck. After cleaning his room again just to make sure he didn’t miss anything he grabs a tub of ice cream from the fridge and hides away in his bed. He’s scouring the internet for any sort of job to fill his weeping wallet.

Trust himself to lose something so large. How the hell did that even happen? 

An hour into his internet he comes across a sketchy ad.

SERIOUS APPLICANTS ONLY 

_In need of a blood donor on a once a week basis. Will need at least 470ml every week. Payment starts at ¥200,000._

Requirements:

  * Blood work 
  * Resume



If interested please fill out this form: forms.blooddonor.google.com

Atsumu sits up when he reads payment. He hastily cleans his screen to make sure he’s seeing it right. he gapes at his screen when he confirms that yes, the ad says ¥200,000 for a blood donation. But what’s with the resume? Do blood donors usually need resumes? He taps on the link and finds himself answering some basic questions like what does he usually eat and what is his…

Atsumu squints at the screen. “What’s my zodiac sign?” He scrolls down further. “What’s my favorite color? Is this a blood donation or is it a dating profile?”

When he scrolls down further he finds questions such as: _If you would go anywhere in the world when you’re sad, where would it be?_ and _What kind of animals do you like? Bonus points if you like dogs!_

“This has to be a troll,” Atsumu mutters. “What kind of person writes ‘serious applicants only’ and then does this? Some of us are really trying to find money, you know. I hope you choke on your coffee or something.”

Somewhere in Tokyo, a secretary coughs as their coffee goes down the wrong pipe.

Atsumu contemplates exiting the form but then hesitates. It’s most likely a scam but what if it wasn’t? The form didn’t ask anything that raises any red flag for Atsumu. An extra cautious person would exit without a second and well. Atsumu’s not an extra cautious person. 

After going through 31 questions (Why didn’t they just make it an even number? And why ask about his favorite thing to do after a breakup?), Atsumu attached his resume and writes in his email before hitting send. When he finishes he puts down his phone and tries to sleep away his settling panic. He needs to apologize to Yachi soon. Or grovel for his life.

Just as he was about to drift to sleep, his phone rings. Atsumu sighs. He can’t even be sad in peace. He swipes to answer and puts it on speakerphone.

“Hey, Atsumu! Where are you, you punk?” 

Atsumu frowns. “Yuuji-kun? The hell are ya talkin’ about?”

“Didn’t I count on you to even out the numbers during a mixer?” Terushima Yuuji complains. “Why are you ditching now?”

Terushima Yuuji. A student from the engineering department who Atsumu allowed to use his hair as an experiment for his hairstyling dreams. In the process, Atsumu gave him his number and he became this friendly guy who drags Atsumu out on mixers. Atsumu usually goes because of the prospect of free food and because Terushima helped him pass his core requirements out of the goodness of his heart. 

Atsumu sighs. “Okay, I’ll be on my way. Give me a few minutes.”

“Thanks, man! See you!”

Atsumu flops back down on his bed and sighs once more. So much for his moping session.

* * *

In a private restaurant booth in Tokyo, Sakusa Kiyoomi looks flatly at the woman across from him. The woman is beautiful, most likely a daughter of an old-money family or a self-made career woman if her entire outfit is to go by. But Sakusa is not interested. Not because of her but because he has other things to attend to other than romance.

The fact that the woman sat down across from him without any preamble or introduction does not give him any enthusiasm towards this dinner arrangement. What a shame, too. Sakusa glanced at the menu and saw they had some enticing recipes. He wonders of fine dining has allowed take-out.

“Takada-san,” Sakusa says evenly, “I think you might have the wrong table. I’m meeting an associate.”

“It’s Takata,” the woman corrects. “And you’re Sakusa Kiyoomi, correct? If so, I’m meeting the right person.”

“No, I’m not Sakusa Kiyoomi,” Sakusa says with a straight face.

Takata raises a brow. “They sent me a picture of you. Unless I’m experiencing memory complications I should be right in my judgment that you are Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Then you might have to consult a doctor then. You have the wrong person.”

The table becomes silent. The two of them stare at each other, Sakusa maintaining his straight face.

“Look, Sakusa-san. I’m quite confident in the fact that my memory is good as I know it and that you’re my marriage prospect,” Takata says after a moment. “You can’t pretend you don’t know me when I know they sent you a file of me as well.”

“I didn’t and I’m not interested in attending one,” Sakusa says bluntly. He starts to stand, shrugging his coat on. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to more important matters to attend to.”

“Sakusa-san, you know that delaying things like this does not work,” Takata says, uncaring. “It’s better to get them over with than resist.”

“Well, I’ve always been an outlier,” Sakusa replies. “I hope you have a good night, Takata-san. As an apology for my early leave the dinner is on me. Please send my secretary the bill.”

“You’re an interesting person, Sakusa-san,” Takata huffs out a laugh. “Very well. Don’t blame me if I indulge myself.”

Exiting the booth, Sakusa lets out a relieved sigh. Most of his past marriage prospects were rather… passionate about their reactions. If Sakusa has to come home with a stained shirt one more time he’s going to storm into headquarters.

Sakusa wears his mask and steps to the side. He needs to take care of something first. He’d do much more than a phone call if he could but he needs to settle for now. He impatiently waits for the call to come through and after five rings the person picks up.

“Hey, how did the dinner go?” Komori Motoya asks cheerfully.

Sakusa grits his teeth. “Did you know? Did grandfather put you up with this?”

“What? Why are you mad at me? Aren’t you meeting an associate?”

“Hah,” Sakusa massages his forehead, “grandfather must have bribed my new secretary then. He sent me to a marriage dinner again.”

“What?” Komori cackles. “How does he even do that? No, I’m actually more impressed that the secretaries keep on listening to him. Maybe they agree with him think you’re too lonely.”

“I’m not lonely,” Sakusa grumbles. “And I should find a new secretary. I don’t even need a secretary.”

“Please don’t fire your secretary,” Komori says wryly. “Or you’ll end up becoming a feared boss. Anyway, just go home and sleep it off. If you’re really annoyed about it then talk to grandfather. I sent you the applicants, too! Bye, Kiyoomi!”

Sakusa grimaces at the thought of going to his grandfather. His last visit nearly drained him all his energy for the week. It would be just a large headache to deal with it all. Maybe he should just invest in a secretary AI so his grandfather could no longer bribe his real ones.

He waves away the valet and goes to his car by himself. His stomach is empty so he decides to stop by a konbini. It’s almost night so most restaurants are busy. Sakusa does not have an appetite for fast food nor does he have the patience to wait for a long line so konbini it is.

There is no parking space for cars so he parks a few stores down. He makes sure his mask is firmly on his face before making his way down to the convenience store. The street is surprisingly not crowded though the restaurants he passed by are full. It’s actually a bit quiet except for a slight sound.

When he passes by an alley he hears it. A groan. Sakusa slows down to a stop. He hears it again, this time accompanied with a wet cough. He hears _he doesn’t have much money_ and takes out his phone to call the police. When he catches a glimpse of metal he pauses. 

_Well,_ Sakusa thinks as he pockets his phone _, might as well do some good deeds._

* * *

Miya Atsumu is not a saint. He’s not a bad person either. He has his shitty moments and his good moments for other people. He knows this, he knows everyone is like that. That’s how humans are to him. There are no black and white in a person’s morale.

In a dimly lit alley in Tokyo, Miya Atsumu weakly looks up to three men as they rifle through his wallet. In this moment, he thinks of them as the worst men alive. They are the scums of the earth. The pigs who should be sent to slaughter. Who steals from a broke college student? Scums. Evil people that’s who.

Atsumu had been walking through a shortcut when the three men roughed him up. Atsumu was by no means weak but he was easily overpowered. Especially with the knives the men came with. 

The left side of his stomach is bloody. Atsumu hopes it didn’t hit any vital part of his body. Hospital bills would be a bitch to deal with on top of everything. The three men are starting to look like hazy figures and his breathing is starting to slow.

Is he going to die in this street? He didn’t even graduate college yet. Is this really fair? What about Osamu? He still hasn’t beaten his twin at Mario Kart. What about Sunarin and everyone else? 

Atsumu wonders if this is his karma. What did he do to deserve all of this today? First, he woke up to a nightmare. Next, he found out he lost a ¥90,000 digital drawing monitor for no clear reason. Now he’s going to die on the dirty asphalt losing all his money. What did he do in his past life to have this kind of shitty luck?

Atsumu closes his eyes in resignation. _Well, what’s done is done_.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I suppose you're the ones who made him like that?”

Atsumu weakly opens his eyes to see a man standing behind the three muggers, startling them. Because of the dim lighting, Atsumu can’t make out his features. He does notice the shining piece on his wrist. And the fact that he’s tall as hell.

"What the hell?" One of the men exclaims, brandishing his knife. "Hey, if you know what's good for you keep on walking! Don't be a nosey asshole."

"If there's a nosey asshole in here right now it would be you guys," the stranger retorts. "Going through a wallet that's not yours makes you nosey, doesn't it?"

Before the muggers could further react, the stranger’s hand darts out and hits one of them at the back of his neck. Next, he punches one on the stomach and kicks the back of the last man’s knees. With the last man kneeling, he reaches into his suit jacket and takes out a pair of gloves. Gloves firmly on, he takes the money back and walks to Atsumu, squatting down next to him.

Atsumu could only blink up at him, sluggish. A black mask covers the man’s face except for his dark piercing eyes. It might be a trick of the light but Atsumu could swear his eyes were red for a second. Dark curls frame his face, artfully styled. The most interesting thing Atsumu could see is the two moles on the left side of the man’s forehead.

_Like a colon_ , Atsumu thinks as the man’s brows furrow. _Kinda like a vampire bite._

The stranger helps him lean against the wall before taking off his suit jacket. Atsumu bites back a pained groan when he moves, his stomach injury making sure he does not forget. Atsumu startles when the man wraps him in the suit jacket, looking at him for an explanation.

“You were shaking,” the stranger answers. “I’ll take you to the hospital. You haven’t lost much blood. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Without warning, the stranger puts one arm under his legs and behind his back before lifting him up.

“Holy shit,” Atsumu mumbles.

“Hold on tight,” the stranger instructs.

Atsumu does not have the strength to lift his arms so he settled for gripping the man’s shirt. He hopes he won’t mind. Oh shit. Does he have to pay for dry cleaning after this?

“You don’t need to pay,” the stranger says, amused. Shit, he said it out loud? “That’s not what you should be focusing on right now. And oh.”

Atsumu blinks up at him. Even at this angle he looks handsome. What the fuck.

“You have blood on your neck,” the stranger says, voice tight. 

Oh. Atsumu lifts a hand to feel around his neck. When he pulls his hand away it comes back with some red spots. “Oh. It must have been when they put the knife on my neck.”

“You’re oddly calm for someone who got stabbed.”

“Well, they said shock is a good numbing agent. Hey, are ya gonna kidnap me?”

“No, I have no reason to. I’m taking you to the hospital we’re near my car now. I’ll put you down, okay?”

“Mhm. ‘Mkay.”

Atsumu feels himself being lowered on something cold before something clicks. He hears the car door open and he’s being lifted and quickly lowered again. Something goes tight against his chest and the door is closed once again. A few seconds later, the car starts to move.

“Hey, stranger-san,” Atsumu mutters out a few minutes into the drive. “Thanks for savin’ my ass. Please don’t sell me to the black market.”

The stranger’s chuckles are the only thing Atsumu remembers before he finally passes out.

* * *

Sakusa Kiyoomi arrives at his apartment to find his cousin Komori Motoya cooking a meal. He silently goes to his bedroom to shower and change. Dealing with the countless meetings and the headache of the hospital staff nearly drains him all of his social battery. By the time he comes back to the living room Komori already has his food ready on the coffee table. 

"Welcome home," Komori says. "It's curry. And I made it fresh, your highness."

Sakusa rolls his eyes and sits down on the floor to eat his dinner in front of the TV. He's too lazy to eat properly at the dining table.

“Itadakimasu,” Sakusa says quietly before picking up his chopsticks. 

Komori flops down on the couch and picks up the remote. “I smelled blood on you earlier. Did you come home late because you fought someone?”

“Sort of,” Sakusa says. “It was to help someone, though.”

“Hmm. What for?”

Sakusa chews his food first before swallowing. “They smelled… sweet. I was curious.”

“Did you taste?”

“No, I resisted the urge. You know I never take blood directly from people.”

Komori hums and nudges Sakusa with a foot. “Hey, be honest. What other reason do you have? You could have just called the police, you know.”

“They were bleeding and the police would take too long,” Sakusa replies, finishing his dinner and leaning back on the couch. “Besides, their blood made me curious. I wanted to know what kind of person would have that sweet scent.”

His curiosity led him to an interesting person. The man had mumbled random thoughts throughout the drive to the hospital. Most of his thoughts were about game technical terms and food musings. Sakusa had quietly laughed through some of them as he drove. The man didn't mind his bleeding at all and was pliant with the nurses who helped him. He even slightly cheered when Sakusa gave him a handkerchief to temporarily clean his hands.

“Speaking of blood-” Komori picks up a tablet and hands it to Sakusa “-the applicants for the blood donation are there. I narrowed it down to four.”

Sakusa looks at the blood donation ad and gives his cousin a look. “I’m surprised people actually signed up with how sketchy it looks. And is this even an ad? It looks like a sketchy ad for dating. Are you really a company president, Motoya? You can't even make a simple proposal?”

“Hey, I didn't become a secretary before for nothing!” Komori protests. "And you're the one who appointed me as president!"

"A decision I'm questioning now," Sakusa says. He ignores Komori's offended remarks and focuses on the applications.

According to Komori's notes on the side, these people are mostly around the 20-30 age bracket. Most of them have decent backgrounds and are least likely to participate in illegal activities. Sakusa swipes through the first three profiles before stopping at the last one. He blinks at the face staring back at him before huffing out a surprised laugh. Komori’s head snaps up from his phone, quickly trying to look at who he picked. Sakusa pushes him back with a foot, calmly ignoring Komori’s attempts.

"Hey, let me see!" Komori insists. "Damn it. Why are you so strong again?"

Sakusa picks up the TV remote and raises the volume to drown out Komori's yells. He smirks when Komori stops and gives him an unimpressed look before leaning back on the sofa and crossing his arms, petulant. Sakusa looks back down at the tablet, soaking in all the new information available.

“Miya Atsumu, huh?” Sakusa muses, staring at the same face of the man he saved earlier. “I guess we're not done meeting yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We're on to another AU! If you see my tweets on TWT you'd probably recognize this as the 'vampire sugar daddy plot' on my to-do list lolol. But this one actually has a deeper plot so I'm excited to write it though I can't promise consistent updates :'D I've never been good at that lol
> 
> Anyway I'm on TWT as [@Dai_naning](https://twitter.com/dai_naning). That person who just pops up randomly and never says if they're really on hiatus or gone for good? yep, that's me lol


	2. Chapter 2

Suna Rintarou lives a simple life. He goes to Tokyo University like every young adult does, works a part-time job to help pay his bills, and goes home late at night from his volleyball practice for his scholarship. Some nights he stays up late to watch shows or sometimes he goes out.

Today, he’s staying up late because his best friend is an idiot who got himself stabbed in a dark alleyway so now he’s on a taxi to the hospital. And to think tomorrow is his free day, too.

“Osamu,” Suna sighs, trying to hold back his irritation, “calm down. He’ll be fine.”

Osamu looks up from his phone, grip tight. His leg has been bouncing nonstop since he sat down. He bites his lip, chastised, but releases it after a stern look from Suna. He drops his phone on his lap and leans back on the seat, sighing.

Suna had just stepped out of the volleyball gym when Osamu ran to him, face pale and looking haggard. He had no time to even be confused when Osamu dragged him to a waiting taxi and blurted out what happened to Atsumu.

“But seriously, a stabbing in the dark,” Suna glances at Osamu. “How did that even happen? I thought he was at home.”

“He was but then he promised his friend to go to a mixer,” Osamu grumbles. “The idiot. Why the hell did he even work hard to get here if he was just goin’ around for dates? He should be at home studyin’ and now look, he got stabbed.”

“It’s not like he wanted to be,” Suna says wryly. “Calm down, we’re almost there. You can get mad when you see him.”

“Damn right I will.”

Suna hands the driver the money as Osamu hurriedly clambers out. He manages to pull him back just in time before the car door causes an accident. He gives Osamu a look before opening the door on the other side, hand still on his arm.

“If you get in an accident too it would be the end of us. Calm down,” Suna says. “He’s okay.”

“Ya don’t know that.”

“Before you jump to conclusions let’s go inside first.”

Osamu shuffles on his feet, hesitant. He glares at the hospital and clenches his fists. It’s not long before he brings his fingers to his mouth to bite on his nails. When Suna smacks his hand away he directs his glare to him instead.

“Don’t get mad at me. And I told you, he’s fine.”

Osamu stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets instead. “Ya don’t know that.”

Suna sighs and drags him forward. When Osamu digs his heels on the ground, he groans and turns around. He was about to give him a scathing remark when he notices Osamu’s trembling shoulders and watery eyes. Surprised but thinking quickly, he drags Osamu to the side and grabs his face to force Osamu to look at him.

Suna wants to smack himself. Osamu hates hospitals. He probably hates it more than anyone. Every time he visits one it’s always with Atsumu on a hospital bed with an arm attached to an IV drip. Suna had only met them at high school but he knows full well the history of Osamu's relationship with hospitals. Of course he’s going to be agitated. Suna should probably be a good person and comfort him.

As if reading his mind, Osamu narrows his eyes in warning.

“If you go in all concerned like this Atsumu will laugh at you,” Suna says instead.

Osamu glares at him so Suna squishes his cheeks. “I mean it. He’ll laugh so hard at you he won’t let you forget it even when you’re 70.”

“Shwut up,” Osamu grits out through puckered lips. “That dwambass got stabbed. How would he be fine?”

Suna rolls his eyes. “We wouldn’t know if you won’t stop being a baby. Let’s go inside first before you worry yourself to death.”

Osamu glares at him harder before nodding so Suna releases him. He hesitates for a moment before sticking his hand inside Osamu’s pocket and grabbing his hand. Osamu sputters a protest before falling silent when Suna squeezes his hand. 

When Suna feels a hesitant squeeze, he bites down his smile.

The hospital is busy even at this time of the night. Suna looks around as they walk to the help desk. Osamu turns away to talk to the receptionist, hands still holding Suna’s. Suna sees something move at the corner of the hall, too fast for him to track. It could have been someone but. Something in him tells him to keep his guard up; it seemed suspicious.

“Rin, hey.” Osamu follows his gaze and leans in close to whisper, “Did ya see somethin’?”

“Hm, I’m not sure yet,” Suna murmurs in reply, “but we should still keep an eye out. Did you get Atsumu’s room number?”

“Yeah. Do ya think it’ll be trouble?”

“The thing? Not really. We’re in a crowded place.” Suna turns around and nudges Osamu towards the elevator. “Now come on. We have to check on that klutz.”

As the elevator doors close, Suna keeps his eye on the corner. When he sees nothing, he releases a relieved sigh. He notices Osamu fidget next to him, picking at his nails. Ah, he’s doing that bad habit of his again.

Suna flicks him hard on the forehead. “Stop that, you’re going to ruin your hands.”

“Ouch, the hell Rin? At least hold back a little!”

“Your filter’s off.” Suna smirks, “Atsumu would be glad to hear that you’re _so_ worried about him.”

Osamu swipes at him but Suna catches his arm. He clicks his tongue before looking away, resisting the urge to stomp on Suna’s foot. When Suna maintains his hold, he pulls his arm away harshly. His other hand is still holding Suna’s.

“Shut yer trap.”

Silence. Then, a sideways glance. “So you’re the real tsundere between the both of you, huh?”

Osamu gives him a disgusted look as the elevator doors open. He rips his hand away. “I’m not talking to you, get away from me.”

Suna follows after a stomping Osamu, walking leisurely. “I can’t get away from you even if I want to, Osamu. And stop walking so loudly, it’s almost midnight. You’ll wake the people up.”

“It’s this room,” Osamu says as he opens a door. He peeks inside before stepping in. “‘Tsumu, ya awake?”

“Oh, are you here to visit Miya-san?”

Suna turns around sharply. He moved too fast and startled the nurse by Atsumu’s hospital bed. The clipboard on her hand fell so Osamu reached down to pick it up for her.

“Sorry for startlin’ ya,” Osamu says sheepishly, handing her the clipboard, “my friend’s a scaredy-cat, ya see.”

“Oh, I can’t blame him,” the nurse chuckles, “people seem to think hospitals are haunted at night. I would be surprised too if someone just talked out of nowhere. Oh my, are you Miya-san’s twin?”

“Ah yes, I am.” Osamu glances down at Atsumu. So far he doesn’t see anything too worrying. “He’s okay now, right?”

“His stab wound wasn’t too deep so he’ll recover soon,” the nurse assures him. “He will probably wake up tomorrow. He’s just drowsy from the anesthesia.”

“I see.” Osamu notices the fruit basket on the table next to the bed. “Did someone visit him before us?”

“Someone with dyed hair came earlier! He kept kneeling next to Miya-san begging for forgiveness. Something about making him go to a mixer?”

That must be Atsumu’s friend then. 

Suna walks over to Atsumu and pokes him on the cheek. When Atsumu doesn’t stir, Suna reaches into Osamu’s pocket. Osamu ignores him and continues talking to the nurse. He uncaps the Sharpie and starts drawing a masterpiece on Atsumu’s face.

By the time he finishes the mustache, the nurse is on her way out the door. Osamu drags a chair next to the hospital bed and starts unwrapping the fruit basket. Atsumu’s friend must have been really guilty. The fruit basket looks expensive. There’s even a sturdy knife included.

Suna smirks at Osamu. "See? He's just fine."

"Shut up. Don't' say another word."

"Yes, yes. Any other request, Osamu-sama?" 

“Don’t forget to give him a monocle,” Osamu says, cutting up an apple. “And draw on his arms, too.”

“Do you just want me to give him a full sleeve?” Suna grabs a chair to sit down. “Wait, what kind of marker is this?”

Slice. “Permanent.”

“These can be washed off, right?”

“I don’t know I’ve never tried using them on skin.” 

Suna sighs and caps the pen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You just grabbed it without permission. Why should I tell you?” Osamu puts down the knife. “Anyway, the nurse said something interesting about the hospital bill. It’s been paid.”

“Really? We should contact them and say thanks.” Just thinking about the possible added expense is causing Suna a headache. “Who knows what would happen if Kita-san found out Atsumu’s in the hospital again.”

The two of them shiver at the thought. Their guardian, Kita Shinsuke, is overly protective of the twins. He’s particularly protective over Atsumu because of his weak health. It was one of the reasons why the twins had a hard time convincing Kita to allow them to attend university away from Hyogo.

Atsumu stirs and blinks. He sits up and settles against the propped pillows. “Sunarin? ‘Samu? Why are ya here?”

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” Suna hides the marker. “Took you long enough.”

“Where are we?” Atsumu perks up at the sight of the fruit basket. “Oh, ‘Samu! Cut some for me.”

Osamu picks up the plate of cut apples. “Already did. Yer such an idiot for gettin’ robbed in an alleyway. What’s the use of attendin’ all those self-defense classes if yer not gonna use them?”

“What did ya expect me to do? Fight them like Bruce Lee?” Atsumu huffs as he takes the plate of apples. “And there were five of them against little ol’ me. Or somethin’ like that.”

“Just say yer a weakling and shut up,” Osamu says. “But anyway, ‘Tsumu. Do ya know who brought you here to the hospital? We have to give them our thanks.”

Atsumu tries to speak through a mouthful of apples despite Suna’s disgusted look. “Dunno. He just found me there- Wait.” He looks around frantically. “Why are we in the hospital?”

“Why else? Ya got stabbed, dumbass.” Atsumu yells when Osamu hits him on the shoulder, hard. 

“I’m injured do ya really have to hit me that hard?”

“Maybe if I do that it’ll get into yer thick skull to be careful!”

“Why on the shoulder then? Hit me on the head!”

“You’ll get a concussion if I do are you stupid?”  
  


"Ya said yer tryin' to get through my thick skull then hit my head dumbass!"

"That's not the point and yer the dumbass!"

Suna takes out his phone and starts playing a game. The twins bicker and yell at each other, with Osamu aggressively cutting more fruits and Atsumu devouring them. He answers some of his emails for class and a confirmation for his phone subscription payment. Oh, payment.

Atsumu looks well for the most part. His dyed hair is ruffled and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced. There's a bandage on his neck and he's a bit pale but he's fine. He just needs to eat proper food and a bit of rest and he's good. Osamu seems to think so too because Suna sees him relax, even smiling in their banter. 

Suna looks down at his phone again. He shouldn't look more. 

“Atsumu, do you remember who brought you here?” Suna asks, cutting their banter off. “We really need to thank them for paying the hospital fees. If it wasn’t for them we would be on the first train back to Hyogo with Kita-san waiting to kick our asses.”

Atsu leans back on the propped pillows, thinking hard. “I don’t know him. He didn’t tell me his name and I didn’t see his face.”

“So what? He just helped you with no reason?” Suna asks, skeptic.

“I told ya, some people are nice in the city too! But maybe? I mean I hope he was. I _think_ he was.”

“What does he look like?” Osamu asks, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe it was a ruse to try and kidnap ya or somethin’.”

“Why would he send me to a hospital then?” Atsumu asks wryly but thinks the question over. “Um, he was wearin’ a mask so I didn’t see his face but he was tall as hell. And he’s rich-”

“Obviously,” Suna comments.

“-and he has two moles on his forehead like a colon!” Atsumu says excitedly, pointing at his own forehead. “It’s like a perfect colon. It was my first time seein’ moles like that. It was like he got bit by a vampire but then the vampire failed so he was bitten on his forehead instead!”

“What kinda story is that? Yer imagination's really somethin' else.”

“But I think he’s really a nice person though,” Atsumu munches on an orange slice. “He helped me after all.”

Suna still looks doubtful and glances at Osamu. “How much was the bill?”

“The nurse won’t tell me so I don’t think it’s much,” Osamu answers, cutting more of the fruits. The basket is already half-empty. “But anyway, ‘Tsumu. Ya need to stay here until tomorrow. I’ll write yer excuse letter for ya. Don’t be a dumbass and get hurt again.”

“The hell? I won’t!”

“Good, then go to sleep now.”

“No, I mean I won’t stay here until tomorrow!” Atsumu insists. “I’m fine now. And we have another meeting for my group project tomorrow!”

Suna side-eyes him. “You were stabbed and you heal slowly. Listen to Osamu and stay here.”

“What are ya, my parents? But I’m really fine! Look-” Atsumu lifts his shirt “-it healed completely and there isn’t even a scar!”

The knife clatters to the floor. 

The nurse had warned Osamu that though the knife did not hit any internal organ, the skin was penetrated enough for it to scar. Atsumu’s stomach looks untouched, almost as if he hadn’t been stabbed. 

Suna and Osamu share a quick look.

“Atsumu,” Suna says calmly, clicking his phone off. “Stay here for tonight. It would be strange if you got discharged too early.”

“What- Why? We can just-”

Atsumu stiffens, eyes drooping. He glares at Osamu before falling asleep, snoring almost immediately. Osamu tucks him in with the thin hospital blanket, quiet. A million thoughts raced through Suna and Osamu’s heads, each one more and more concerned. 

Suna breaks the silence first. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

“I know.” Osamu picks up the knife from the floor and sets it down on the bedside table. “If I hadn’t seen it I wouldn’t believe it either.”

Growing up, Atsumu and Osamu were almost different in every way except for their same exact physical features and competitiveness. Osamu was quieter and calmer while Atsumu was louder and impulsive, diving headfirst to anything. Another distinguishing fact about them is that Atsumu is more vulnerable to sickness and injuries than Osamu on a concerning level.

Atsumu had always been sickly since he was young. He gets sick easily and recovers slowly. As he grew up it became worse and worse to the point he had to do three days in school and two days for homeschool every week. Osamu pokes fun at him for being a weakling in order to hide his concern. Anybody with a brother who falls sick in a flash would be.

Even with taking vitamins and supplements, his health did not improve. The doctors ran every test possible on him but they can’t pinpoint the exact cause. He could do light exercises or run a few miles but any more than that he falls sick. He’s a living contradiction; he looks healthy but his internal state says otherwise.

It’s the biggest reason why Atsumu, Osamu (and by extension), and Suna had to take three years off after graduating high school. Atsumu was adamant about going to the big, far away big city of Tokyo and Kita was unmoving. It took a whole lot of lessons, experimental medicine, and an agreement of weekly check-ups before Kita gave them the blessing to move.

A stab wound should have kept Atsumu immobile for two days at the least. It shouldn’t be possible that he is fully healed in just a few hours.

“Maybe it’s the new medicine?” Osamu tries. 

Suna shakes his head. “He’s been using the same medicine since last year. It doesn’t line up. Even if it was the medicine… No, it’s just impossible.”

“But what if-”

“Osamu,” Suna cuts. “You know exactly why it’s impossible. And you know why it’s possible.” He sighs, irritated. “We have to find that man.”

“Are you going to tell Kita-san?” Osamu asks.

“We’re going to need Kita-san’s help in finding that person.” Suna sighs again. He can feel the growing headache. “And I don’t really want to do that. If he finds out Atsumu got stabbed- Well, I’m dead meat.”

“I’ll take the fall with you.”

Suna gives him a look before looking away. “It’s fine. It’s my responsibility. But we really do need to find who brought Atsumu here. I’ll try my luck with the staff later.”

“I don’t think they know either, though.”

“There should be at least a file or a trace on who paid for the expense,” Suna says. “I’ll try finding it. You should go home. I’ll sneak into their records room after lights-out.”

Osamu frowns, opening his mouth to protest before thinking about it. “Just don’t get caught.”

“I never get caught,” Suna mutters petulantly. “But thank you for the concern. Go home. I know you still have classes tomorrow.”

“What about ya?”

Suna raises a brow at him, smug. “It’s my free day tomorrow. Why? Are you concerned about me?”

“Ya know what? I hope ya get caught,” Osamu sneers at him. “Don’t even think about comin’ home tonight! I mean it don’t come home!”

“That’s not what you said last week.”

Osamu reddens at the reminder. He throws the knife at Suna who ducks just in time. He stomps to the door and throws a middle finger at Suna who responds with an exaggerated flying kiss. Cursing at him one more time, Osamu moves to slam the door before remembering the place and closing it slowly. As he does, he gives Suna his dirtiest glare until the door clicks shut.

Suna smiles, endeared. “He’s so fun to mess with.”

* * *

“Oh, yeah.” Komori nudges Sakusa until he looks up. “Why did you pick that guy? Miya Atsumu right? You didn’t read the whole report about him. You didn’t even look at the others after him. Is there a reason why?”

“A reason? Not really,” Sakusa looks back down on the tablet open to the man’s profile. “I just think he’s interesting. And I have something to ask him.”

Komori leans forward, curious. “About what? Didn’t you just meet him?”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself about,” Sakusa shoos him away. “And I don’t think I can ask him the question anyway.”

“Ha? The blunt Sakusa Kiyoomi-san is hesitating in asking a question?” Komori asks mockingly. “Just what kind of question is it?”

“Why are you so nosy? Go home already.”

“Is that really what you say to someone who went out of his way to cook dinner for you?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t agree because you’re interested in the bartender downstairs,” Sakusa smirks when Komori flinches. “You’re not fooling anybody, Motoya.”

“Shut up. By the way, the university sent a request that you personally attend,” Komori nods to the envelope on the coffee table. “They _really_ want you to come this time.”

“I’m busy. Why are you telling me this? You usually go in my place.”

“Better ask than just assume. And this could help your publicity, you know?”

“What publicity?” Sakusa asks dryly. “I pay a lot to not have one. You’re the face of the company, go by yourself.”

“Well, I could do that but this time I heard that some of the other game companies are also spectating,” Komori says. “I heard that Kuroo Tetsurou would be coming. His company’s the one we’re trying to have a partnership with before their new release of a console, right? It would be better if the CEO would meet him instead of just me.”

If Sakusa’s memory is correct, Kuroo Tetsurou is the new acting CEO after the old Nekomata stepped down from an active role in the Nekoma company. The company has been around for a long time but their recent release of their handheld consoles solidified their popularity. This time, a huge figure in the gaming community gave their new launch a boost. Following that person’s actions, more and more personalities gave fantastic reviews and made their followers buy it.

It’s a normal reaction but what sets Nekoma apart is the stability of their sales and influence. Another game console had overshadowed them for a few months before tapering away again. But Nekoma stayed in the rankings and recently they gained traction again.

It would be in their best interests to secure a partnership with them.

Sakusa frowns. “We can just arrange a meeting with him.”

“Ah, about that.” Komori scratches his chin nervously. “He’s quite a character. We tried arranging a meeting with him but his secretary just gave us a long corporate answer where he basically refused. I heard he did it to almost every company. So if you could somehow, you know, meet him there and convince him to agree to a meeting… It would be wonderful.”

Sakusa mulls it over. He could refuse, he knows Komori would not force him if he wishes not to attend. A new statement was released about Nekoma’s plans of releasing a new, better console. The industry’s excitement is aroused and all eyes are on them. Game companies are clamoring to have their partnership. Sakusa’s company is one of them. If they can land an exclusive contract with Nekoma it would be like Christmas coming early.

“So?” Komori asks hopefully. “Can you go instead?”

Sakusa sighs. “Fine, I’ll go. But which university is it by the way? You never told me.”

“Well, that’s because I didn’t think you were going,” Komori points out. “It’s the only university that does this program. It’s Tokyo University. You know, the annual university game development competition? I think it’s called GDC for short?”

“Whatever it is you can just send me the details,” Sakusa clicks the tablet off and hands it to Komori. “Now go home. It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay here tonight?” Komori whines.

“Go home Toya,” Sakusa calls over his shoulder, waving him to the door. “We’re going to get busy the next months. Get all the rest you need.”

"I think that's the most caring thing you've ever said to me."

"Shut up."

* * *

Suna rifles through the folders with gloved hands, looking for Atsumu's file. The inventory room is dark with the only light coming from the computer. A nurse is slumped on the table next to him, fast asleep. Suna felt bad she might get in trouble later but oh well. What she doesn't know won't hurt her.

After checking Atsumu's room for any hidden devices or bugs, Suna went around looking for a map of the hospital. A quick trip to the 1st floor found him a large map with all the utilities listed. After a trip to the 8th floor and the 3rd floor, he went to the 4th floor where the inventory was next to the restrooms. Thankfully, the break room is a floor down so he won't have any trouble meeting a staff while he's searching through their files.

"There you are," Suna mumbles quietly, triumphant. He flips Atsumu's file open and skims through the papers. "Vitals report... Issues... Payment! I knew it had to be here."

Suna takes out his phone and scans the paper. He puts the papers back in the folder as he remembers and hopes no one notices. He hadn't moved much so it was easy to return everything back in its place. With one last check, he leaves the room quietly.

A CCTV camera spies on him from the upper left of the wall of the hallway. A guard would have been watching him if Suna hadn't taken care of it earlier. A quick hit to the base of the neck and the security guard was out. Suna had paused the CCTV's operations with a single click. The red light on the camera is still off. It would be an hour before the guard wakes up.

Whistling, Suna walks away. He has someone to track down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're probably thinking: Why is the update short? Because if I add more it won't make sense in chapter format :(
> 
> Anyway here's a late update but I promise the next one would be longer lol
> 
> \- Dai


	3. Chapter 3

“Between the two of ya it’s not clear who was stabbed.” Osamu leans against the counter, brows furrowing. “Rin, what happened to ya?”

Atsumu and Suna stand next to each other in the doorway in different states. With a wide grin and sparkling eyes, Atsumu looks ready to bounce off the walls. In contrast, Suna stands slouched with dark circles under his eyes and looks dead off his feet. He looks as if he would pass out any moment.

Wordlessly, Suna drags himself to Osamu and leans on him heavily. Osamu stiffens but Suna only buries his face on his neck. Osamu hesitates before wrapping his arms around Suna to support him upright. 

“How come yer askin’ about Sunarin first, ‘Samu?”

“Ya look alive so why should I care more about ya?” Osamu asks flatly.

Atsumu’s grin widens and he waggles his eyebrows at Osamu. His twin rolls his eyes at him before raising a hand to shoo him away. “I thought ya had class? Get goin’ ya scrub.”

“I got stabbed and yer just gonna shoo me like that?” Atsumu sneers. “I see how it is.”

Osamu glares. “Shut up. We’ll talk later when ya get back. Make sure ya don’t get stabbed again so don’t be stupid.”

“Okay, fuck you,” Atsumu snorts, walking to his room. “Wait until I’m gone before ya suck each other’s faces.”

“Shut up!” Osamu shouts after him. 

Atsumu snickers as he closes the door. Osamu would most likely fuss about Suna in that passive-aggressive way of his. Strangely enough, he only seems to reserve it for Suna. When they were children Suna and Osamu had been on better terms, best friends even. To this day, Atsumu still hadn’t figured out why his twin changed his attitude towards Suna.

_Well, it’s not my problem_ , Atsumu thinks as he starts packing his bag. _They probably won’t tell me anyway_.

Atsumu checks his table again to confirm the monitor is not there. He still holds firm in his belief; he didn’t move the monitor. 

But it still does not explain why he can’t remember where it is. Moving it would be difficult and there would have been no need. Atsumu can sit down for hours and be absorbed in his work without any distraction. If he really needs to recollect his mind he can just go out for a jog. He does not have any need to move it.

And he cannot remember anything. His days had blended together and he cannot remember the specifics of each day. The more he tries to remember the more he forgets.

“This damned head of mine,” Atsumu sighs, agitated. “How could I forget somethin’ as important as that?”

“‘Tsumu, yer gonna miss the bus!” Osamu yells out from outside. 

Atsumu rushes out, dramatically covering his eyes. “Are ya both decent?”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Atsumu slowly drops his hands. “Oh, Sunarin. Ya feelin’ comfy?”

Suna only raises a middle finger in response. He looks ridiculously small as he curls on the sofa with blankets drowning his frame. His narrow eyes are the only thing Atsumu could see in the little nest he rests in. Suna’s hand has already returned under the thick blankets and his eyes are closing. Next to his head is Osamu's favorite plushie from childhood. Atsumu can also see his brother's favorite blanket in the blanket pile.

Atsumu snickers. Suna ignores him and nuzzles the plushie, trying to sleep.

Osamu smacks him as he sets down chuupets and a glass of water on the coffee table. He presses the back of his hand against Suna’s forehead before picking up a chuupet and tapping Suna’s cheek with it. Disgruntled, Suna cracks an eye open before opening his mouth. Osamu rolls his eyes as he sticks the fruit jelly stick into Suna’s mouth.

"Don't fall asleep yet, ya still need to eat," Osamu scolds Suna. "Yer gonna mess up yer eating schedule."

Suna mumbles out a reply and closes his eyes. Osamu sighs before fussing over his hair and checking his temperature once again, brows furrowed and lips pursed. His eyes are narrowed but Atsumu recognizes the concern his brother tries to hide.

“Do ya even need me here?” Atsumu asks wryly.

“We don’t so go to class,” Osamu answers making Suna snort and nods to the kitchen. “Don’t forget your medicine. Yer well and all right now but we don’t know how long it’ll last so don’t take any chances.”

“Yes, yes,” Atsumu goes to the kitchen and opens a cupboard. “Why do I need to take these, anyway? Kita-san never said exactly what they do.”

“Well, even if he did you probably won’t understand,” Suna says while sucking on the chuupet. “All you know are games.”

“Well, a simple explanation other than it helpin’ me would be nice.” Atsumu shakes out two pills. “And it’s not really from Kita-san but from grandma.”

The pills are nondescript and come in a clear medicine bottle. They used to be small but now they are almost the size of a penny. As Atsumu had grown up so did the size of the pills.

He never experienced any difference in taking them. Even after weeks or months Atsumu did not notice anything new yet his grandmother insisted on taking them. Atsumu knows the medicine is one-of-a-kind and supplied by a private company. He knows nothing other than that. 

Well, grandmother’s word is the law. He can do nothing about that.

Atsumu downs it with a glass of water before glancing at Suna. “Yer okay now right, Sunarin?”

“He doesn’t have a fever so he should be fine in a bit,” Osamu answers. 

“Wasn’t askin’ ya, ‘Samu.”

“He’s too busy eating to answer,” Osamu retorts. “And why are ya actin’ so carefree? Yer gonna miss yer bus.”

A quick check of his phone has Atsumu rushing to the genkan. “Ah, crap. Why didn’t ya tell me?!”

“I’ve been telling ya, ya moron!”

Atsumu stops at the doorway. “I’ll be home late today, by the way! I’m gonna spend some time in the fashion department!”

“What? Why are ya goin’ there?” Osamu asks, incredulous.

“Need some visual aid for the game,” Atsumu answers before moving to close the door. “Then, I’m off!”

Osamu stares at the door before sitting down on the couch. Suna grumbles but moves to accommodate him, resting his legs across Osamu’s lap instead. When he finishes his chuupet Osamu hands him a new one and puts the trash on the table.

“Ya said ya were just gonna get the document. Why did ya come home like this?” Osamu asks.

Suna sucks on the new chuupet. “The guy who paid for it has no criminal history when I checked his records. Other than that I didn’t find much about him.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“So he’s most likely a private person,” Suna continues. “I have his address but I don’t think we can just interrogate him there. The security of the building is- Ah.”

Osamu grabs the chuupet, frowning down at him. “Stop ignorin’ me. Why did ya come home like that?”

“What else? I met trouble on the way.” Suna avoids Osamu’s gaze. “It wasn’t a big of a problem and I took care of it easily. I'll be fine and I didn't get injured.”

“Sure don’t look like it,” Osamu retorts. “What kinda trouble?”

“I’m going to be very honest with you. I don’t really understand it either.” Suna opens his mouth wide so Osamu sticks the chuupet back in his mouth. “A group of people were outside the building the guy lives in and they were drunk. Well, not drunk. I didn’t smell any alcohol on them but they sure weren’t conscious. It was almost as if they were under a spell.”

“Did they attack you specifically?”

“That’s the weird thing. They attacked me but they didn’t know me,” Suna frowns. “It was almost as if they were attacking just anyone.”

“Bodyguards? Are they from the Union?”

“They don’t seem to be, no.” Suna presses down with his legs. “Massage?”

Osamu gives him a look. Suna looks better now that he's resting. His skin is starting to regain its color and his eyes aren't as unfocused as it has been earlier. Osamu grumbles about the request but complies. “Do ya think they’re after us?”

“That would be a problem since that means they found out about you and Atsumu.” Suna hums when Osamu asks him if he wants another chuupet. “If that happened Kita-san would have ordered us to come home.”

“Still, why would the Union be guarding that guy?” Suna asks after a moment. “Do you think he’s not human, too?”

“Most likely, yeah.” Osamu thinks about the kinds of creatures they have been taught growing up. “I think it’ll be better to leave him alone. Like you said, if he’s with the Union it’ll be huge trouble for us.”

“But then what about Atsumu?”

Osamu considers this. “It still couldn’t be because of him. But if it _is_ him then we have no choice. We’re gonna call Kita-san and tell him what happened. Do ya think Atsumu figured it out?”

“That guy?” Suna snorts. “Of course not. He’s clueless when it comes to stuff like this. He probably didn’t even consider it as a possibility. Well, it’s not his fault though. Grandmother was adamant he doesn’t learn about it.”

Osamu’s face darkens at the reminder. “Yeah. I know.”

Suna stares at him before offering him the chuupet, half-empty. “Want some?”

“You’re gross.”

* * *

Komori Motoya hums as he presses the elevator button. He returns the greeting of the other employees warmly before turning to the elevator again. In his hand are folders and paperwork from the mail. It’s not in his job description but he likes to take on the responsibility anyway.

The building of their company is small compared to other companies. It only has 4 floors with each floor dedicated to 1 or 2 departments. The company’s no longer considered a new company and they have more staff than they used to but Sakusa was firm on staying in the same building. 

Komori had always suspected it was because of Sakusa’s office. When they toured the building the realtor had shown them the built-in arcade system which is in his office. Sakusa might appear strict and mature but once he spots anything game-related he becomes a simpleton. It’s amazing really.

He greets the ever-calm secretary Kiyoko Shimizu before entering Sakusa’s office.

The carpet dulls the sounds of his shoes, walking to an unaware Sakusa without being detected. Komori sets down the folders on the table. When Sakusa does not turn around in his office chair he knocks on the wood. Sakusa startles and looks away from the window, eyes narrowed.

“You really need to stop walking so quietly,” Sakusa says as he opens a folder. “It’s annoying.”

“You have good hearing, it's your fault for not paying attention,” Komori laughs at his cousin’s sour face. “What were you thinking so hard about anyway? Is it the thing earlier in the morning?”

Sakusa had left his apartment building with a few police at the entrance. Apparently, a brawl had started around 2 AM. The police should have been gone by the time Sakusa woke up if not for the fact that it ended three hours later.

“Yes, it’s bothering me,” Sakusa admits. “The Union agents said they were victims of a siren, right? But it doesn’t make sense. If it was a siren’s call it should’ve also affected me. The range of a siren’s call is very large.”

“Maybe it’s a weak siren?” Komori suggests. “Speaking of the Union, Oikawa-san sent a notice that he’ll be visiting. He’s coming tomorrow.”

Sakusa grimaces.

“It’s not even afternoon yet and your face is already this stressed,” Komori teases. “It’s just the Union, you’ve dealt with them for years.”

The Union is a private group that acts as the ‘government’ of non-humans. They keep the existence of people like Sakusa hidden from the public. They have connections to almost every important institution or company, even with the government. If Sakusa’s memory serves him right, some of the higher-ups are non-human themselves.

Every single non-human is supposed to be registered under their records. Any rogue creatures are quietly taken care of by them. They also provide protection for non-humans from hunters. Sakusa was found by one of their agents when he turned into a vampire.

Oikawa Tooru works as a Union agent. He was the one who found Sakusa and taught him about the world of non-humans. If it wasn’t for him, Sakusa might have been dead with a stake on his heart or killed by a bounty hunter.

Dealing with them is… “They’re annoying. Especially Oikawa-san. He always looks at me as if he knows more than I know.”

“It’s because you make it so fun for him to rile you up,” Komori points out. “Also he was the first one who helped you. Be a bit nicer, Kiyoomi.”

Sakusa leans back on his office chair. “I know.”

“... Police are now investigating the murder of the 21-year-old university student-”

The sudden news catches Sakusa’s interest. He picks up the remote and turns up the volume of the TV. Komori turns around to watch as well.

“-Murakami Tsutomo in his apartment unit. The cause of the murder is still unknown however police are heavily leaning towards an agenda of a robbery,” the anchor reports. “The victim’s belongings were thoroughly searched and the unit was turned upside down. No other details are known. Stay tuned for news about the…”

“Poor guy, he was still a college student too,” Komori says. 

Sakusa nods in agreement. “But a murder… That’s horrible.”

“There’s been a rise in crime lately,” Komori comments. “You should take care as well. You even participated in one.”

“Why are you making it sound like I was one of the bad guys?” Sakusa asks wryly. 

“Did it sound like that?”

“It did.” Sakusa makes a sound, thoughtful. “I wonder how that guy is doing. He was really pale when I found him.”

Komori perks up, excited. “Isn’t it the Miya Atsumu guy? I’m going to be meeting him, right?”

“You always go in my place.”

“But well, you’re curious about this guy. Don’t you want to meet him?”

“Even if I was, I'm not going to meet him.” Sakusa narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t even think about telling him anything. Did you even confirm with him that we chose him?”

“Oh, no!” Komori’s eyes widen. He quickly takes his phone out of his pocket. “Ah, so that’s what I forgot! Wait, I’ll send him an email real quick. What should I write?”

Sakusa closes his eyes. “Please write something professional. Don’t send any kaomojis Motoya.”

“But then it won’t look friendly!”

“We’re asking him for his blood we’re not asking for his friendship. Do it properly.”

* * *

“You got stabbed?” Tendou asks. His wide eyes have grown larger as he listens to Atsumu. “And they even stole your money?”

Their group has decided to hold a meeting in a local diner near the university. It seems that Terushima has not told anyone that he was hospitalized. His group mates were all shocked when he told them.

“How are you feeling now, Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, cheeks bulging as he stuffs his face with pork buns. “Are you okay to be out of the hospital now?”

“Shouyou-kun, please swallow yer food first before ya talk.”

“Atsumu, you’re one to talk.”

“Satori-kun, I wasn’t talkin’ to ya.”

“But you’re okay now, right? Atsumu-senpai?” Yachi asks.

Atsumu holds up a hand, touched. “Ah, don’t crowd around me guys. I know you’re all worried.”

“Well, if Atsumu-san got stabbed we can still access his files,” Hinata says brightly. “So it’s okay if he’s bedridden for a week or a month. We can do it without him.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

“Shouyou-kun, yer so cold!” Atsumu exclaims and points at Tendou. “And ya Satori-kun, don’t agree with him! Aren’t any of you concerned about your dear leader?!”

“Atsumu-senpai, please calm down,” Yachi says with a smile as Atsumu sulks. “Of course we care about you.”

Atsumu smiles, teary. “Hitoka-chan-”

“But if you did become immobile enough that it sets us back for our deadline-” Yachi’s smile turns sharp “-we will not be held accountable for what we would do to you.”

Atsumu cowers and curls into himself. Yachi could be scary whenever academics are concerned.“Ah, yes… That is… Understandable.”

“No wonder you didn’t reply to any of our messages in the group chat,” Tendou says, balancing a pencil on top of his upper lip. “We were all wondering why the chat was so quiet.”

“That’s right, it’s usually Atsumu-san who messages the most about the project,” Hinata says. 

Yachi releases a sigh. “So that’s why my night was too peaceful.”

“He nags more than my mom,” Tendou adds. 

“Hey, you would nag too if your future job is on the line!” Atsumu defends himself. “And besides, even if I nag nothing happens. The other members aren’t showing up. It’s good that some of them are actually doing the work in their own time but I’d still like it if they can show up to our meetings. Just even once would be nice.”

“Well, some of them are really busy,” Yachi says, “exams are around the corner after all.”

Atsumu sits up, slamming his hands on the table. “Huh?! It is? How come no one told me?”

“Well, even if we did tell you,” Tendou says wryly, “you still won’t study anyway.”

“That’s right,” Hinata agrees, face glum. “Atsumu-san doesn’t even study for tests. It’s honestly amazing how narrow his vision could be when it comes to games.”

The mood of the table drops. Atsumu frantically looks around, trying to think of a solution. 

“Ah, then why don’t we study together?” Atsumu suggests to his gloomy groupmates. “Won’t that be nice? We can help each other get better!”

“That would be nice but Atsumu-senpai,” Yachi hesitates, opening and closing her mouth. 

“Hm? What is it Hitoka-chan?”

“...You’re really scary when you teach.”

“Hah?! Am I?!” Atsumu turns to the other two who look away. “Wait, am I really?”

“Atsumu-kun, do you remember when we asked you for help in Game History?” Tendou asks. 

Hinata shudders at the memory. “I think that was the first time I’ve ever realized how scary Atsumu-san could be.”

Atsumu shouts a protest and the three of them start to argue about what really happened. Atsumu claims innocence and says he wasn’t strict and _how could I even scare ya, Shouyou-kun? Ya can totally beat me up if ya wanted to!_ To which the two argued _There’s a difference between academic scary and physical scary!_

“But in all seriousness,” Yachi says amidst the raised voices, “I’m glad you’re safe, Atsumu-senpai.”

“Yeah, we are too,” Tendou calms down and wags a finger at him. “Didn’t you know? There’s an increased rate of violence towards college students these days. You should really be careful not to go outside late at night.”

Atsumu frowns. “Increased rate of violence? What do you mean?”

“Lately, there’s been news of college students being attacked in their homes,” Hinata says. “And it’s scary too! They say that it was really brutal how they died. The strange thing about it is that the police didn’t release any information on _how_ they died.”

“That is… weird. Did they find out why they were attacked?”

“The police said there’s no pattern to it. It was almost as if the only thing that mattered was that they were all college students.”

Crime rates were higher in the city. Atsumu has known this but it’s a different matter if there’s a concentration of attack on a certain population. Not to mention that the group being attacked is somewhere he can fit in. He might be imagining a connection but it’s better to be careful before it’s too late.

“Atsumu-senpai, are you alright?” Yachi asks, peering at him.

Atsumu startles out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I’m good. Did they say how many victims there are so far?”

“The police are really hush-hush about it,” Tendou says. “They haven’t said many details other than what the news stations are telling the public.”

“They probably didn’t want to cause fear in the students,” Yachi sighs, placing a hand over her heart. “Even just thinking about it is making my heart shake.”

“Thankfully, there hasn’t been any cases on campus so most students aren’t too concerned about it,” Hinata says. “But still, you should stay safe Atsumu-san. There was a new case yesterday too!”

Yesterday? “That’s really recent.”

“It is. But the guy didn’t come to this school so I guess that’s why it hasn’t spread much yet.”

_Still, that’s concerning_ , Atsumu thinks as the others discuss the murder. _If it was a normal murder the police should have released some details. It’s almost as if they’re covering it up_. _I should tell ‘Samu and Sunarin about it_.

Atsumu’s phone lights up with a notification. When he sees the message ID he stands up and gathers his things. 

“I need to go now, guys!” Atsumu waves goodbye. “I have to go somewhere!”

Tendou pauses and returns the gesture. Hinata turns around and raises his hands, waving them in a wide arc. Yachi meekly raises a hand to wave goodbye too. Atsumu startles but returns Hinata’s energetic wave.

Atsumu turns around, suppressing a smile. He hurriedly opens the door and walks away with a skip in his steps. He’s never had goodbyes like those before. He hopes he can have them as friends even after graduation.

He checks his phone to make sure he’s in the right place. Terushima asked to meet him in the courtyard. When he spots Atsumu from far away, he gets on his knees, presses his forehead to the grass between his hands flat on the ground. The other students do not spare him a second glance but Atsumu wants to curl away in embarrassment.

“Yuuji-kun, stop that!” Atsumu hisses. He crouches down on one knee to try picking Terushima up. “Seriously, yer bein’ embarrassin’!”

Terushima sits up and pulls Atsumu into a tight hug, wailing. “Atsumu, I’m so sorry! If I didn’t ask you to go to the mixer you wouldn’t get stabbed!”

Atsumu pats Terushima’s back desperately. “Yuuji-kun, I get it, I get it. Let me go I can’t breathe-”

“Are you okay now?!” Terushima leans back with his hands firmly on Atsumu’s shoulders. Atsumu takes in a huge breath, winded. “Why do you look out of breath? Did they stab your lungs, too?”

“They didn’t.” Atsumu holds up a hand. “Hold on, Yuuji-kun. Give me a minute. Why is yer grip so hard? Have ya been workin’ out lately?”

“Oh, you noticed?” Terushima asks, bashful.

“Don’t react like that!” Atsumu stands up and dusts his pants. “Now stand up. I still have a class after this. Let’s talk over there under the tree. There’s too many people here.”

Terushima stands up slowly, shouldering his bag which he laid down next to him when he kneeled. He looks at Atsumu warily.

“You’re not going to like, beat me up, aren’t you?” Terushima asks, fearful.

“What do ya think of me? A thug?” Atsumu demands, walking away. “And I need to talk to ya about something. Do ya think ya have time?”

“I asked you to meet me here didn’t I?” Terushima shouts a hello to someone far away before turning to Atsumu. “So then? What did you want to talk about?”

"Can ya do this one favor for me?" Atsumu asks, hopeful.

Terushima gives him a flat look. "Are you going to use my guilt to convince me to do it?" 

"Uh, yeah?"

Terushima stares at him before shrugging. "Fair enough. Sure, lemme hear it."

“Before, ya told me ya know someone who studies the brain, right?” Atsumu asks, stopping at the foot of the tree. “Can ya ask them somethin’ for me?”

“What? Like neurology?”

“I’m not sure. The field where they study memory?”

“Ah, then that might also be psychology.” Terushima tilts his head to the side, observing Atsumu. “Why are you asking about that?”

“It’s just.” Atsumu sighs, awkward. “I think there’s somethin’ wrong with my memory. I don’t remember what happened the last few days.”

After waking up at the hospital, Atsumu had woken up in the best state he had since he was born. It was almost as if all his fatigue and stress had gone away. His body felt lighter and stronger, his mind clear and sharp. He feels like he could go for hours without rest. It was like he was revived.

A quick look at the mirror showed that his face was glowing and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have disappeared. Atsumu had touched his face in shock, not recognizing the person he was seeing. He did push-ups and squats but did not tire as he used to. He jogged around his hospital room and did not break a sweat. 

It was almost as if he was healed of whatever makes him sick. The other thing he realized was the fact that he did not have the strange dream.

Having a clearer mind allowed him to think deeper about it. He had always wondered why he kept having the dreams but he never asked _how_. It could have just been a strange dream his brain cooked up but why did it keep recurring? And why did it feel so real? From the raindrops on his skin to the sound of the storm, everything felt real. It was almost like a memory. But that couldn’t be possible, could it? If that dream did happen why could he not remember it?

But it’s impossible for it to have happened. There’s no way it could be a memory. It looked like something straight out of an Edo period drama for God’s sake. 

Then he had a crazy idea. And it got even crazier when he did a quick Google search about it.

“Do ya know that there’s a theory some of yer weird dreams are actually memories from yer past life?” Atsumu asks. “That memories of yer past self are passed down to the present you?”

“Oh, yeah. I think I know that theory. Why?”

“I want ya to ask yer friend about that,” Atsumu says, clutching his bag straps tightly as he looks determined at Terushima. “I want to know everything about that theory.”

Atsumu takes a deep breath. "I think... that might be the answer to the problem with my memory."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooow look another update. Can you believe it I actually updated?? Oh yeah I forgot to say this but there's murder cases in this fic lmao 
> 
> \- Dai


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